


love you (whoever you are)

by thisgirlnani



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, hidden identity, very light-hearted fun because i'm tired of writing angsty jonsa lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 19:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12260664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisgirlnani/pseuds/thisgirlnani
Summary: Jon Snow falls hard for Alayne Stone when she walks into his life, one day. She's the perfect girl, beautiful, witty, and loving. But, Alayne is also harboring a secret, that might just turn Jon Snow's life upside down if the truth ever came out.OR Jon Snow tries his darn hardest to piece together all the weird things about his girlfriend, and when he figures it all out, he kind of wishes he had just let things be.





	love you (whoever you are)

She walks in to the shop, looking adorably confused.  Jon’s never seen anybody look quite so befuddled, as he watches her bright, blue eyes squint at the chalkboard menu. There’s a regular round of customers that come through Mormont’s café, “Night’s Watch” and Jon prides himself on his ability to recognize fellow college students and professors that mill by in a frazzled hurry.

But he doesn’t think he’s seen this girl, before though, he thinks, watching her carefully. She lifts her eyes to meet his gaze and _scratch that-_ he’s definitely never seen her around before. Jon feels a hot flush color his cheeks, _shit she’s really pretty_. Her brown hair is messily tied back in a bun, underneath a _Westeros Knights_ cap, but even the wide brim can’t hide her long-lashed eyes and the curve of her pink lips.

Jon thanks the heavens he agreed to cover Sam’s shift last minute, even though he’d been quite peeved when his friend had asked him, especially given the weak excuse. Gilly, Sam’s girlfriend, had wanted to go up North for the weekend and attend a meet-and-greet held by some posh Lord of sorts. Gilly went nuts for that sort of thing. Either way, Sam was up North, and Jon was at the café, with the prettiest customer he’d ever laid eyes on and he guess he'd have to thank Gilly for that.

First time, ordering coffee?” Jon calls out.

The girl looks over, eyes widening in acute surprise, then fluttering down, embarrassedly. Jon immediately bites down on his tongue, ashamed. He hadn’t meant to make her feel embarrassed, but then again, he always did have a way of fumbling his words and tone. “Sorry, didn’t mean to take you by surprise, like that.” He amended, sheepishly. “Anything I can help you with?”

She gives a beautiful, albeit, hesitant smile. “Actually, you’re not wrong, I haven’t been to many coffee shops. I’m new to this area.”

“No kidding,” Jon grins, relieved to see her smile. “Where you from?”

“Up North.” She replies, vaguely. “Wanted to go somewhere new for University.”

“Ah, first year of college.” He nods, he remembered feeling the same way 2 years ago. “Here’s always a good spot to study. The library can’t beat us.”

“Tempting offer. I’ve always had bad experiences at libraries. Something about it not being acceptable to start crying over reports and having meltdowns there. I assume, that’s all good here?” She quirks an eyebrow, teasingly.

Jon’s feels his stomach fucking flutter. “Absolutely, no judgement here. But you’ll have to make sure you come when I work. My co-workers aren’t so forgiving.” Based on the flush that spreads prettily across her cheeks, he almost does a fist pump in the air. _For once in life, he’s got this_.

By the end of the night he’s not only got her name, _Alayne Stone_ , he’s also got her number. He does a little celebratory dance once he gets back to his apartment, with plans to call her first thing, tomorrow.

* * *

It’s only been about a month since he’s known Alayne Stone, but Jon can already tell he’s falling _hard_. Sam thinks it’s only because Ygritte’s got a new boyfriend, and this is his way of coping, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Alayne is separate from that past, and is consuming his present.

They had a slow start, mostly due to his fumbling nerves, but after the first few dates he’s thought of little else but Alayne Stone and her million-watt smile. 

She spends her nights at the café, studying, and keeping Jon company during his night shifts. Some nights she doesn’t say a word, her eyes narrowed in on her textbooks, a pencil behind her ear, but just seeing her perched on the barstool just behind his workstation, makes Jon light up with a smile. It all is so fucking cheesy and corny, but he doesn’t give a damn.  He’s the happiest he’s been in a long while.

Their dates aren’t anything special and extravagant. Jon makes barely enough for his textbooks and rent as it is, and so he settles for taking her out to dinner once a week, and cooks her dinners at his apartment as they argue over what movie to watch for the night. Alayne loves her romantic comedies, and while Jon does agree, Pretty Woman is a classic, he loves his abstract independent films that Alayne never fails to interrupt with a genuinely puzzled, “ _What’s going on, now_?”

He feels particularly guilty about the simplicity of their dates, when he opens the door to his apartment one night, and a cheery Alayne stands there with a bottle of expensive looking wine in hand. “Surprise!” she sings out. “You did say last week, a bottle of wine would go nice with Chinese take-out.” She presses a quick kiss to his cheek before sauntering in, leaving him a bit dejected at the door.

It’s 2017, and he knows he shouldn’t feel the need to always pay for their dates and special gifts for Alayne. But, Alayne strikes Jon as a girl that’s been pampered by previous boyfriends, and rightfully so, she’s a beauty matched by a sharp wit as well. He just wishes he could be that boyfriend to spoil her with gifts, or at least, make enough to treat her out more than just once in a while. It only makes it worse that he can tell, Alayne, comes from money.

Alayne dresses _well_. He’s spent enough summers, getting pulled along to shop with his rich Aunt Daenerys, to recognize some of the high-end tags on Alayne’s sweaters, when he picks up her clothes off his apartment floor. She also has a studio apartment all to herself, something Jon could only dream of. It’s not though she flaunts any of this or complains about their dates in the slightest, but Jon’s aware of the life she’s come from and it adds to the insecurity he feels.

“Earth to Jon.” He hears the impatience in her voice, floating back to him from inside.

He closes the apartment door, and makes his way inside, unsurprised, and amused to see her already, settling onto the worn out couch, in front of the TV. He’s always suggested meeting at her place, a Theon-free zone, but she insists on his place, always.

The TV is going on about one of the royal princes, Jon always sees on TV and Facebook, the one with blonde hair and a perpetual pinched expression. What was his name again? _Jeffrey? Joshua? James?_

“His Royal Highness Joffrey Baratheon, attends the annual charity gala!” The TV newscaster announces with superficial cheer. _Ah, that’s the one,_ Jon snorts, moving to grab the remote.

“God, I hate that git.” Alayne grumbles under her breath.

“Hm?” Jon raises a brow.

“Nothing,” Alayne shakes her head with a laugh. “He just looks like one of those boys you always seeing hanging around Greek row, cat-calling at the girls trying to get home.”

“Didn’t know you had such strong feelings about His Royal Highness, I’m getting a bit jealous, here.” Jon teases.

Alayne scoffs. “You’re 10 times the man he is, Jon Snow.”

Jon plops down on the couch, pulling her into his arms. She laughs breathlessly, when he nuzzles the top of her head. “You’ve never even met the guy, but I’ll take the compliment.”

Alayne looks as though she means to say something else, but she gives a minuscule shake of her head. She leans down and captures his lips in a sweet kiss, tangling her fingers into his curls. Jon shifts a bit to make himself more comfortable, before she pulls away, straightens her back and tuts teasingly.

“Ah ah ah. Dinner first, Jon Snow.”

* * *

 

Two months in to their relationship, and Jon notices things are a bit- _off_.

It’s not really anything wrong specifically with Alayne, per-say, but there _is_ something, definitely odd about her.

For starters, Alayne _hates_ talking about her family. The strange part of that is, he _knows_ she adores her family. He’ll catch her in unguarded moments, where she’ll slip up and mention something about one of her family members. The first time she even mentioned having a family, she’d just awoken, with her face burrowed into his chest. “God, I completely forgot to get something for my sister’s birthday.” She had mumbled, half asleep.

Jon had perked up at that, because she’d never said anything about having a sister before. “What are you going to get her?” he asked, cautiously.

“I dunno,” Alayne yawned. “She got me a really nice purse last year, so I have to get something just as good, she’s the hardest one to shop for.”

Jon paused, watching her carefully. “Alayne, how many siblings do you have?”

That had jolted Alayne out of her sleep right away. He saw it in the way her blue eyes blinked in alarm at his question. “4 siblings.” She had replied with a clipped tone. And then, she promptly got out of bed to shower. Any time after that, when he’d tried to ask a question about her family she’d always answer it with one-word responses and then promptly change the subject.

Jon’s never even seen a picture of her family. Alayne doesn’t have _any_ social media, no Facebook, no Instagram, no Twitter, no nothing. He can understand not having an Instagram or Twitter, he himself was reluctant to start an Instagram, but a Facebook? Even his graying college professors have Facebook profiles. When he’d ask her about it, she only replied with a careless shrug: “It just doesn’t seem worth the time.”

He voices his concerns to Sam and Gilly one night, at the café, when Alayne is at the library with a study group.

“She has a husband.” Sam says suspiciously, moments later, earning a slap at the back of his arm from Gilly.

Jon’s face sours. “Thanks, a lot, mate.”

“Don’t listen to Sam.” Gilly takes a sip of her caramel macchiato. “It is a bit odd, though.” She admits. “But, just because she doesn’t have a Facebook, doesn’t mean your relationship is doomed.”

“She also never tells me anything about her family. Doesn’t that mean something?”

“Maybe she had a fall-out with them? Didn’t you say she’s from the North and she went to college for a ‘new start’? Sounds like somebody who doesn’t want to be near their family.” Sam nods.

“No, she loves them.” Jon replies agitatedly. “She says little things like ‘Oh, my brother would love this’ or ‘I have to buy a birthday present for my sister’. But when I ask her questions, she clams up immediately.”

Gilly gnaws at her bottom lip. “I don’t know, Jon. Some people are just a bit more closed off is all it is. You just started dating, anyways. Give it time.” She gives a bright, reassuring smile.

Jon nods, half-heartedly. “Anyways,” Gilly’s tone picks up with excitement. “Did I tell you about my time up North? Remember, when you agreed to take that shift for Sam?”

‘She met a _Lord_!” The sarcasm is inescapable, in Sam’s voice and it earns him another slap on his arm.

“Oh shush, Sam. And it’s Lord Robb Stark, to you.” She pulls out her phone eagerly and swipes through her photo gallery. “I’ll show you a picture.”

“Robb Stark? Isn’t he the heir to one of the bigger castles up North?” Jon’s never been one to really follow the affairs of the royal, but the Starks are one of the more prominent families out there, so even he is familiar with it.

“Mmhm, heir to Winterfell.” Gilly nods, pleased. “Sam didn’t even know that. Here.” She leans across the bar and hands him her phone.

The picture shows Gilly standing eagerly next to a tall, red-haired man with bright, blue eyes. He’s never seen such startling blue eyes, except for Alayne’s.

 So this is Robb Stark, he does look familiar, now that there’s a name to the face. There’s something else familiar about him, that Jon can’t quite put his finger on.

In the background of the picture there’s a tall, broad woman with closely cropped blonde hair. She stands even taller than Robb Stark, looking intimidating in a black suit.

“Who’s the giant lady?” Jon asks, impressed, handing back the phone.

“His bodyguard. She didn’t let me get too close.” Gilly pouts.

“She’s doing the Lord’s work.” Sam makes the sign of the cross with a barely suppressed laugh.

“You meet any more royals?” Jon asks.

“Nope.” Gilly sighs. “Back when I bought the tickets, his sister was supposed to be there as well, but she pulled out of the event weeks ago.”

“Bummer,” Jon smirks. “I’m sure Sam was disappointed.”

Sam’s mouth opens to protest and Gilly only giggles in agreement.

* * *

A strange incident happens about a month later. Jon’s in class one day, when he gets a text from Alayne.

_SOS!!! I need your help babe._

Jon immediately replies back. **What happened??**

_I just got my period, and don’t have any tampons or pads on me. None of the girls in the class have an extra one either. FML. Can you stop by my apartment after your class? I’ll be in lab for another two hours. :’(_

The request is startling. Jon has never been inside Alayne’s apartment, she always prefers to come to his, and every time he picks her up, she’s always waiting outside for him.

**Of course. Do you want me to drop by for the key?**

_You just need the code for the door. It’s 4302. My tampons are under the bathroom sink. Thank you!!! Love you xx. My lab’s at Sullivan Hall, just text me when you get here and I’ll come out and meet you._

So after Jon’s lecture, he walks over to Alayne’s apartment. She lives pretty close to campus, and after climbing up 4 flights of stairs, he finally comes to the front of her door, a bit winded. When he types in the code and opens the door, his jaw nearly drops.

Alayne’s apartment is immaculate. _Why in the seven hells do they always go to his apartment?_ Shiny hardwood floors glisten in the light and Jon can tell the kitchen’s recently been renovated with stainless steel furnishings. The apartment is modestly decorated with minimalistic furniture and potted succulents on nearly every flat surface. With the frequency that Alayne comes over to his apartment, you would think that she was a closet hoarder and lived in unmanageable conditions, but he can’t for the life of him understand why she prefers his apartment to this studio that looks like it just came of the screen of an HGTV show.

He shakes his head and makes a reminder to ask her about it. Craning his head around the corner, he finds the bathroom door, and heads straight there.

The bathroom is equally clean, smelling strongly of scented soap. Just like Alayne said it would be, the box of tampons are located under the sink.

But he finds something else, as well.

A box of brown hair dye.

Alarm bells go off in Jon’s head. It’s odd that Alayne never mentioned dyeing her hair, or that her hair color had been different at some point. But, again, she didn’t have any social media so Jon had never seen older pictures of her for comparison. Doubt worms its way into Jon’s thoughts, but he shakes it off. Was he really getting so worked up over something as small as a box of hair dye?

Suddenly, a clatter echoes through the apartment and Jon stands up quickly to go investigate the noise. He leaves the bathroom and as he peers into the living room space, he sees a tall blonde woman standing in the living room of Alayne’s apartment. The woman’s back is turned, unaware of Jon’s presence.

“Sansa, are you trying to get yourself killed? Leaving the door unlocked like that.” The woman grumbles.

Jon coughs politely, and the blonde woman whips around suddenly. She’s quite tall and muscular, Jon’s never quite seen anybody like her. Alayne’s certainly never introduced him to this woman who seems to be making herself more than comfortable in her apartment.

The blonde woman is speechless, so Jon introduces himself. “Jon Snow. Alayne asked me to pick up some tampons for her, sorry didn’t mean to startle you.” He pushes the frame of his glasses, nervously, a million questions running through his mind. _Who the hell was this woman? Who the hell was Sansa?_

“Oh, Jon Snow.” Her face slackens. “Alayne’s boyfriend.” She nods, knowingly. “I’m Brienne, Alayne’s friend. I was just stopping by to drop off some things, she didn’t say you would be here.”

“On my way out,” Jon replies with a half-smile. “Were you looking for somebody, a Sansa, was it?”

Brienne blinks, “Who?”

Jon clears his throat, “Earlier, when I came in, you were looking for a Sansa?”

The blonde smiles, tightly. “You must have heard incorrectly. I don’t know anybody by that name.”

“Oh,” Jon reddens, flustered, _did he mishear her_? “Well, sorry. I guess I’ll be going then.” He holds up Alayne’s tampons, awkwardly.

Brienne nods, “It was nice meeting you, Jon Snow.”

He drops by Alayne’s lab to drop off the tampons, and part of him is dying to ask at least one question about the blonde woman, but Alayne has no time, rushing right back to her class after plucking the tampon from Jon’s hand and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

So when she stops by his apartment for dinner, as they always do, he asks her then.

“I ran into this blonde lady, when I went by your apartment.” Jon casually drops in the conversation. He watches her carefully.

Alayne stops stirring the pot of spaghetti sauce, but then shrugs, looking unbothered, “Brienne? She’s my trainer. I have her drop off some stuff for me from time to time.”

Jon blinks twice. “You don’t go to the gym, Alayne.” He half means it jokingly, but there is truth in his words. Alayne doesn’t like going, she’s complained on multiple occasions that she despise the 3 flights of staircases required to go up, in order to reach the campus gym.

Alayne’s lips purse tightly together. “That’s why I have a trainer, Jon. She comes to my apartment, and does workouts with me.” She sticks out her tongue, “If you didn’t always force feed me lemon cakes and coffee, I wouldn’t have to do this.”

A wry chuckle leaves his lips. “You would still eat the lemon cakes, even if I didn’t force you.” He pauses. There’s something about the older blonde, he can’t quite drop. “How come you haven’t mentioned her before?”

Her blue eyes glint just a bit, and then it’s gone in a flash. “Jon,” she sighs, exasperated. “How do I say this- you’re ripped, I’m not.” Alayne sneaks a hand underneath his grey Henley, pressing against his abs, as if to make her point. Jon jumps back, sputtering and red-faced and Alayne only snickers. “Not all of us have the body of a Greek God. I didn't want you to make fun of me.” She rolled her eyes.

She pulls him in for a deep kiss, both hands snaking around his neck. Jon kisses her back with equal fervor, but it’s then, mid-kiss, that he remembers where he’s seen that blonde lady before. And the revelation, spoils the mood for him.

_Brienne was the blonde lady in the picture of Gilly and Lord Robb Stark._

* * *

Jon calls Gilly early the next day.

“ _Gilly_ ,” He releases a breath, he didn’t even know he was holding.

“Yes?” she chirps. “What did you need?”

“That meet-and-greet you went to, the one with the Stark Lord, what was his sister’s name? The one that was supposed to be at the event.” Jon’s stomach is roiling anxiously in anticipation of her answer.

“The sister?” Gilly hums, thinking for a quick second, “Oh! It’s Sansa, Sansa Stark.” Jon feels as though he’s going to be sick. “Yeah, the organizers said she wouldn’t be able to make it due to a double-booking of her schedule, or something like that.”

Jon grasps the phone with a white-knuckled grip. “How many children are there in the Stark family?” He asks weakly.

“Why the sudden interest in them?” Gilly giggles. “You can google all this, you know.”

“Gilly! _How many siblings_?” Jon’s tone grows higher with desperation.

“Fine, fine.” She grumbles. “Let’s see, there’s Rickon, Arya, Bran, Robb, and Sansa. So… 5 total. Anything, else?”  Jon breathes in harshly. _Of fucking course there were 5 siblings._

Jon hangs up without another word. He feels numb as he types in ‘Sansa Stark’ into his phone’s search engine. With his stomach fluttering, he presses the ‘go’ button and nearly drops his phone.

There are thousands of resulting images of Alayne. Alayne with _bright, fiery red hair_. But it isn’t Alayne, because Alayne doesn’t exist. Jon’s breathing goes shallow. There is no Alayne Stone, there is only Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell.

* * *

He’s been a coward, unable to confront her about it. The whole revelation of his girlfriend being a completely different person, is _wrecking_ him. Had she been pulling him along this entire time as a joke of sorts?

 In some way, he _had_ thought it was all too good to be true. Alayne Stone was too perfect, beautiful, intelligent, witty, and loving, there had to be something wrong with her. He just hadn’t expected that flaw to turn out to be _this_.

But the signs were all there, Jon couldn’t believe he hadn’t come to the conclusion earlier. First there was Alayne’s reluctance to go out in public often. She had probably wanted to minimize the chances of being recognized. Secondly, there had been the box of hair dye in her sink, as she was a natural redhead. (This was the worst part, because this just confirmed that Jon, indeed had a type). Third, Alayne had never talking about her family, probably because she hadn’t wanted to accidentally tip him off. And fourth, of course Alayne had claimed she didn’t have any social media accounts, because, well, she actually did, they were just under a completely different name and curated by royal officials, probably.

The more he stews on it, the more frustrated he gets about the whole situation. So _of course_ , he just blurts it out one night, before they’re about to sleep.

Alayne, or rather, Sansa, steps out of the bathroom bare-faced and sleepy, wearing one of Jon’s ratty T-shirts and a pair of boy shorts. Just before she pulls the sheets up, ready to slip into bed with him, he says it.

“Sansa.” He forces out her real name. The name feels strange coming off his tongue.

She blinks twice, he can see the cogs turning in her head. “I don’t-“

“Sansa, I know.” Jon says quietly.

Her blue eyes widen, and she goes still for a good moment, before slipping into bed next to him. “How long have you known?” She questions, refusing to meet his gaze.

“A week? I didn’t know how to bring it up.” He admits. “There’s not a really good way to bring it up, anyhow.”

“Are you mad?” Her voice is small, and her knuckles are white with nervousness. “You have every right to be, if you are.”

Jon shakes his head. He just wants to know. “Why did you do it?”

Sansa bites down on her bottom lip. “I wanted to experience normalcy for a bit. I’ve grown up in the public eye, as perfect Lady Sansa Stark, for my entire life. So, I did this crazy thing, dyed my hair, and changed my name to go to college here. I begged my parents for months before they even considered it. Brienne has been assigned to take care of me while I’m down South.” It all came out in rush. “They said they’d only let me be here for a year, and then I’d have to return up North.  I met you, and you didn’t seem to recognize me and initially, I didn’t think it would get serious, so I just never said anything. I didn’t know you. If I had told you the truth to start with, I had no way of knowing if you would blab to the press or anything like that.”

Jon raises his eyes, “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Of course.” She breathes out, she meets his gaze now, clasping his hand in hers. “I know that now. I just had to be very careful, but I know you would never do anything to hurt me now. Whatever questions you have, I’ll answer them.”

She’s so beautiful, looking earnestly at him with her bright eyes. He’s not angry about it. He can’t be. He can tell she genuinely likes him, and that’s all he needs. He wants to pull her into a kiss, but he restrains himself. He just has one question, “Is this, treasonous?”

Sansa blinks twice. “Hm?”

“I don’t know. I’m not royalty, and you are. Is this-“ he gestured between the two of them, “-allowed? Will your father chop off my head or something? Because I like you a lot. But not enough to lose my head for it.”

A laugh escapes Sansa, “I agree, you have a very handsome head, it would be a shame to lose it. But you’re fine, at most, you’ll lose a finger, I swear it.”

Jon nods, relieved. “I can lose a finger for you. But that’s where I draw the line.”

Sansa grins, “I can work with that.”

* * *

“Don’t be nervous.” Sansa says, earning herself a loud snort from Jon.

“Sansa, your parents are the Lord and Lady of Winterfell. I _deserve_ to be nervous.” Jon pulls at his tie, anxiously, while they stand in the foyer of Sansa’s childhood home. _God, why couldn’t her secret have been that she had a husband?_ He would have taken that over having to meet Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn Stark. Jon curses himself, feeling faint.

Gilly and Sam had been no help, as well, in preparation of meeting Sansa’s family. Sam had just patted Jon on the back, sympathetically while Gilly squealed and asked Jon to take lots of pictures and send them to her immediately.

“Here they come.” Sansa hummed, smoothing out her pale-yellow dress. Jon followed her gaze, and sure enough Sansa’s siblings were descending down the marble staircase. The smallest one, Rickon, bounded down first with a big grin and stopped right in front of Jon, sizing him up.

“Hi, there, mister.”

“Hello, Lord Rickon.” Jon ruffled Rickon’s red curls, and then withdrew his hand quickly. Was that breaking some kind of rule? Was he allowed to ruffle a Lord’s hair? God, he needed a manual on how to do all this.

Rickon didn’t seem to mind it, though and he climbed into Sansa’s arms to give her a big hug. “ _Oof_ , Rickon. You’re too heavy for this, now.” Sansa laughed, putting him down and dropping a kiss onto his head.

The next two siblings to greet him were Lady Arya and Lord Bran, whom were currently studying Jon with a critical eye.

“What do we think Bran?” Arya asked, loudly.

Bran only stared at Jon, unblinkingly. “He looks average.” Bran shrugged. “I don’t see what the fuss is, all about.” Jon gave a weak smile towards the boy, unsure what to make of his comments. Sansa had warned him that Bran was going through an off-phase, but it wasn’t exactly heartening for Jon to hear himself be assessed as ‘average’.

Arya’s brown eyes narrowed in on Jon, “I’ll be watching you closely Jon Snow.” Sansa rolled her eyes, but she gave her little sister a good-natured smile.

Jon’s head bobbed up and down, “Of course, Lady Arya.”

“Rookie mistake, Jon.” A voice broke into the conversation. It was Robb Stark, just as charismatic and good-looking as he was on TV. Robb smiled broadly at Jon. “Never call, Arya by her proper title. She prefers, to think of herself as a knight rather than a proper lady.”

“Duly noted.” Jon nodded, extending his hand for a firm handshake with Robb. “Lord Robb.” He added, hastily.

“It’s all good, you can address us by just our names.” Robb laughed, good-naturedly. “You can save that formality for our parents.”

A wicked gleam came into Arya’s eyes that made Jon began to sweat, nervously. “Oh, _yes_. Are you prepared?” Little Arya cackled with glee. “Sansa’s last boyfriend left the house in tears, poor guy didn’t even make it 10 minutes in.”

Sansa swatted Arya, “That’s a lie-” Arya scowled, “-It was 5 minutes.” Arya’s scowl morphed into a snicker and she high-fived her older sister.

“Not helping.” Jon gritted out.

Robb clapped Jon on the back with a hearty chuckle, “Welcome to the family, Jon Snow.”

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the prince and me. i hope you guys enjoyed it, it's a bit crack-ish but i hope that it was fun to read either way! much love <3


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